One Tuesday Changed Everything
by Kkarrie
Summary: Lassiter gets some unexpected news on a Tuesday. Inspired by the plaque in Santabarbara Town 2. No spoilers for season 7. Mentions of minor character death.


AN: In the season 7 premiere, the plaque that Shawn looks at when he is investigating the Red Chief Firing Range has Lassiter's name on it. The tournament that Lassiter placed in was the "Lucinda Barry Memorial Tournament" You usually don't have a memorial for people who are alive, so this is the short fic that was inspired by the plaque.

OoO

OoO

OoO

OoO

OoO

OoO

It was a Tuesday. Lassiter remembered that very well. It had been a beautiful day. The sun had been shining, the birds had been singing, normally Lassiter would have hated that, but ever since he'd met Marlowe, he didn't mind the birds so much.****

He'd been at the station. He'd been running a little bit later than usual, he'd stopped by Starbucks to get a coffee on his way in. As he made his way over to his desk, he noticed a frail old man sitting patiently in the chair beside it.****

**"**Is there something I can help you with?" Lassiter snapped, setting his briefcase and coffee on his desk.****

**"**Are you Detective Carlton Lassiter?" The man's quavering voice fit his build perfectly.****

Sweet Lady Justice, the man had to be over 90 years old. "That's me," Lassiter shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. "Did McNab let you wait for me back here?" He would have to remind the rookie about letting just anyone sit back in the bullpen. Who knows what this man could have overheard.****

**"**Sir, my name is John Owens with Owens, Bath and Knowles, I'm here in regards to the estate of Lucinda Barry. We sent a letter to the address she gave us, but we received no response and we have some of her possessions that we need to hand over to you."****

**"**Lucinda Barry?" Lassiter was completely confused.****

**"**Yes, you do know who that is?" Mr. Owens looked concerned.****

**"**I know Lucinda, we were partners for a short time." Amongst other things, a small voice in the back of his head reminded him. He had really liked her... "Wait, did you say estate?" Lassiter's gaze snapped back up from where he'd been staring at the floor, contemplating his failed relationship.****

**"**Yes, sir, there are some firearms that Ms. Barry left to you in her will and since I was in Santa Barbara for another case I thought that I would drop them off." Mr. Owens paused. "Detective, you were aware that Ms. Barry was killed two months ago, weren't you?"****

Lassiter felt his stomach drop right to the floor. He had to put a hand on his desk to steady himself. "Killed?" he muttered.****

**"**Oh dear," Mr. Owens put a hand to his mouth. "I just thought you would have known."****

Lassiter swallowed and tried to compose himself. "Is there something I need to sign for those guns?" He cleared his throat and reached for a pen on his desk.****

Mr. Owens looked taken aback at Lassiter's sudden recovery, and then shook himself. "Yes, right here," he pulled a stack of papers from his bag. Lassiter noticed for the first time the leather satchel that Lucinda stored her side arms in sitting on the floor next to his desk.****

**"**This is just stating that you've received the property left to you in the terms of the will and that you will not hold the firm responsible for the condition." Mr. Owens pointed to a line at the bottom of the last page for Lassiter to sign.****

Lassiter scribbled his signature. He thought that he said thank you, but he couldn't remember for sure. With that Mr. Owens left and Lassiter just stood there.****

He looked up Lucinda's name on the internet. The article was short, but gave him enough detail. She had left Santa Barbara and moved to Sacramento and then a year later had moved to San Francisco. Lassiter smiled at that. She'd always talked about San Francisco and wanting to live there.****

She'd died in a car crash. There had been a drunk driver and she'd been hit head on. After reading that, Lassiter could feel the banana bread from that morning threatening to leave his stomach.****

He ended up emptying his stomach contents into the small trash can under his desk - Lassiter had handed it to McNab and threatened to fire the rookie if he let anymore old lawyers back into the bullpen.****

Then Lassiter took the leather satchel down to the shooting range. O'Hara must have sensed something was off because she didn't ask where he was going or why.****

There were three guns in the bag. Lucinda's 9mm Glock that Lassiter had helped her pick out right after she'd been assigned as his partner. They'd probably bonded over that gun more than anything. He smiled fondly at the memory and gently set the gun to the side.****

The next gun was a small .22. It would have been a target gun, and much smaller than Lucinda would have carried for defense, but Lassiter recognized it as the gun Lucinda had shown him the first night he'd spent at her place. It was the gun her dad got her when she was accepted to police academy. She'd proudly showed it to him, ignoring the smirk on his face as he sat on her couch, sipping a scotch.****

The last one was a Kimber. It was gorgeous and Lassiter could honestly say he felt a surge of pride to know that Lucinda had purchased a Kimber. They had argued for hours about how Kimbers compared to Glocks and Lassiter wasn't sure that he'd ever truly convinced her.****

He'd spent hours in the range that afternoon, firing each gun. Remembering the memories associated with each one and just small memories about Lucinda herself. He thought about her smile, her eyes, the way she had helped Spencer and he'd been so pissed at her. The way that she had looked the first time they worked together... the crushed look in her face when he was informed her of the transfer he'd put in with the Chief. ****

He relished the smell of the gunpowder that filled the air. He went through target after target. For the first few he didn't really think about why he was shooting these particular guns, and then on the fifth target reality hit him.****

He slowly put the .22 on the counter in front of him and even more slowly he let himself sink to the ground. Lucinda was gone. He'd been honest with Spencer over the lie detector, he had really liked her. She was someone that had gotten to know him beyond the gruff, bitter, soon to be divorced detective that everyone saw him as all those years ago.****

The melt down in the firing range had been six months ago. Lassiter was standing at the Red Chief Firing Range now, checking the magazine on the Kimber. He was there for the first annual Lucinda Barry Memorial Tournament. He'd set it up in her name to honor her service to Santa Barbara. ****

He was satisfied with the magazine and raised the gun to shoot the distance between him and the target. Just as he was about to fire, the wind picked up a little and for a brief second Lassiter could have sworn he heard a voice whisper in his ear.****

**"**You've got this, Carlton."


End file.
